


Meetings for the Broken and the Sad

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a worried waitress slips an address into Gerard’s back pocket, Gerard works up the nerve to attend a group counseling session for victims of domestic violence, where he meets Frank, a man so frightened after running away from his abuser that he can’t even speak without stammering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Phase One: Tension Building_

Gerard couldn’t catch his breath. He was whimpering and moaning and sobbing with each exhale. He was hiding behind the bed, kneeling on the floor and shaking, periodically looking up over the edge of the bed at the bedroom door. 

He could feel the tears streaming down his face, and there was a visible wet patch on the carpet in front of him where they kept dripping off his chin. 

He was scared, he was so scared. He was sad…so sad. 

“No,” Gerard whimpered. “No…” He moaned and ducked back down into the shelter of the narrow space between the side of the bed and the dresser.

After a moment of choked sobs, he lifted his head to peer over the mattress at the doorway again. 

The front door of the townhouse could be heard opening. Gerard sobbed, chest tightening with fear, and he dropped back down behind the bed.

“Gerard?” A voice called. It wasn’t angry…yet. Gerard opened his mouth, knowing he needed to answer, but couldn’t find his voice and all that came out was a squeak. “Gerard!”

“I’m in the bedroom,” Gerard cried, hardly audible.

“Gerard!” The voice screamed. Gerard sobbed and covered his face with his hands.

“In the bedroom!” He cried, just loud enough to be heard.

“What the fuck…” he heard his lover mutter. Knowing better than to hide, Gerard slowly crept closer to the foot of the bed so that a small sliver of his form could be seen from the doorway where his lover finally appeared. “Hey, baby,” his boyfriend of four years said. “What are you doing down there?”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said softly, sniffing back tears and creeping into view a little more.

“For what?” His boyfriend said, coming over and running his fingers through his hair. “For what?”

“I broke your plate when I was washing it,” Gerard cried, sobbing desperately. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m sorry!”

“Oh, baby…I don’t care about that.” But when Gerard fell for the lie and looked up, he was struck hard across the face and a hand was fisted into his hair. Gerard screamed as he was dragged upwards and pushed onto the bed, forced forward and rolled onto his back—slapped again, punched, raped as he thrashed and pleaded. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ hide from me again, bitch!” His boyfriend said, spitting in Gerard’s bloodied face as he got up from the bed. “Get your fuckin’ ass cleaned up. We’re going out for fuckin’ dinner tonight.”

Gerard laid on the mattress and cried, covering his face and feeling the mix of tears, spit, snot, and blood that soaked his hands. He didn’t want to go out looking like this…he didn’t want his stupidity on display.

Who let themselves get treated this way? Idiots… Fags and idiots.

( ) ( ) ( )

After some time in the bathroom and a few layers of makeup later, Gerard reckoned that he didn’t look too bad as he limped down the street to a diner. People passed him dirty looks, but he wasn’t supposed to be looking at their faces, his eyes belonged on the ground. He wasn’t allowed to look at anyone. Not a woman, not a child, and certainly not a man.

He sat down in his seat at the diner with a gasp of pain and stared at his boyfriend in terror. He hurt…he was really hurt this time.

The waitress who took their orders—Gerard’s boyfriend taking the liberty of ordering for him—was trying to get Gerard to look her in the eye, but he wouldn’t. He wasn’t allowed. It was too risky. He knew better…and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the look before.

Pity…mixed with confusion and disgust.

Gerard knew he was pathetic. He knew he was useless…

He ate his food slowly, but ate all of it despite his newly-chipped tooth. He was hungry…and he’d be slapped again if he wasted food…wasted money. 

When his boyfriend was done, Gerard followed him to the checkout counter. But then…as his boyfriend was paying, their waitress slipped something into Gerard’s back pocket. 

“It’s a place you can get help,” she whispered so, so, so quietly into his ear, like a ghost…like an angel with a mangled face.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank shifted uncomfortably in the metal, fold-out chair. He fidgeted like this every time he sat down here—three days a week for the past four weeks. He never felt comfortable here, even though these people were supposed to be his “friends.” 

If anything, they were just people who knew his secret…shared his secret.

Group counseling for victims of domestic violence…

Frank watched as the other regulars filled in the seats, smiling at him softly or just nodding their heads in greeting as they sat down and formed the circle. Frank always arrived first…apart from the counselor who unlocked the doors to the public theater that’s stage served as their meeting ground. 

“How’s it going, Frank?” Monica asked. She was a nice girl…her boyfriend had cut her across the cheek with a pocket knife, leaving her with a horrid scar. 

“I-It’s f-fine,” Frank stammered. “H-how are-are y-you?” He looked away from her quickly and stared at the wooden floor, examining the cracks in the boards with great intensity.

“Good. It’s going good,” Monica said. 

“G-g-good,” Frank choked out, swallowing hard. He started moving his leg up and down nervously, bouncing the weight on the ball of his foot as he worried his lower lip. 

More people filed in and then, just as all of the regulars had sat down and their counselor opened her mouth to speak, someone else came stumbling in. 

“Oh, good, he’s here,” Monica said suddenly. Frank flinched when Monica stood up from her seat and made a welcoming gesture towards the darkly clad stranger. Frank didn’t look at him, he looked at the floor and let his leg bounce anxiously. 

“Is this the…the meeting for…”

“Yes,” Monica answered. “Yes—come in. Here, sit by me and Frank.” Everyone was watching the new person as he slowly, stiffly, lowered himself into the seat. Frank tried not to watch him. Frank just wanted to stare at the floor and maybe slip between the cracks like a drop of water. “I’m glad you could make it,” Monica whispered to the new man. “This is Frank,” she said, nearly forcing this new guest to acknowledge Frank’s presence when all Frank wanted was to be invisible. 

What was worse, it made Frank have to acknowledge the new member in return.

“Hi,” the new man said. His voice was frail…terrified.

“H-he-hey,” Frank choked, gasping once the word was out. He was terrible at meeting new people…and _terrified_ of other men. 

And so everyone was sitting awkwardly in their seats—Frank trying desperately not to burst into tears as he stared at his lap and his bobbing knee—and waited for their counselor to start speaking.

“Alright, everyone. Welcome back, it’s good to see all of you—and I see we’ve got a new face here with us, so let’s all introduce ourselves and make him feel welcome. Alright?” The counselor was nice—Frank liked her well enough, if he didn’t he wouldn’t continue coming to meetings—but he hated introductions and he hated that she made him talk, even if it was for his own good.

“I’ll start,” Monica said cheerfully. She was almost ready to leave the group, and Frank was sure that the only reason she stayed around was because she wanted to be his friend and see to it that he kept going to meetings. 

She and Frank went to get coffee together sometimes…

“I’m Monica,” she said, with a cheerfulness Frank so greatly envied.

“I’m…I’m Ger…Gerard,” the new member said. Frank felt the anxiety grip him, knowing he would have to introduce himself next—knowing he’d have to speak in public… It was hard, it was so fucking hard and none of these people understood that.

“F-Frank,” Frank stammered, biting his lip and sinking into himself as soon as the word was out. A word…that’s all his name was. It meant nothing…it was just like a swearword now. 

They continued around the circle, introducing the four other members. The rest were all women, but Frank was not at all excited to have another male in the group besides himself. Men terrified him. He couldn’t even look at his own father or grandfather after all of the things his ex-boyfriend had put him through.

“Okay, I’m Dr. Beacon, and I think it’d be helpful if we all told a little bit about why we’re here, just so Gerard feels welcome, alright?” Of course it was alright, Frank thought. They were here to talk it out and get better…whatever she suggested would be alright.

“I’ll start, again,” Monica said. She really was ready to leave the group…Frank didn’t know if he’d miss her or not. She was the only one who made an attempt to pry him out of his shell… When she stopped showing up, he would too. “Um…I was with my last boyfriend since high school. We dated for over seven years, and it was always pretty bad. He used to hit me, a lot, and he would threaten to kill me if I left him and threatened to kill my mom and my brother…” Frank knew her story by heart. She was packing to leave after he’d pushed her down a flight of stairs the night before. Her boyfriend caught her and cut her—raped her and went out drinking. While he was gone, she left with nothing but her purse and legal documents. 

“Thank you, Monica,” Dr. Beacon said. “Frank? Would you like to go next?” Frank felt his heart start pounding and he wanted to shake his head—he wanted to refuse and go hide in the bathroom until the session was done…but he wanted to get better, too, so he sucked it up and spoke.

“Ch-Charlie tr-tried to k-k-kill me,” he said. “’n…’n I-I…I r-ran a-aw-away.” The story got shorter and shorter each time he told it, but Dr. Beacon never complained. Sometimes she’d ask him to wait after sessions and talk to him, but she never made him feel bad when she did. 

The remaining four regulars told their stories. Abuse and rape…ran away in the end… Now it was Gerard’s turn. The stranger’s turn.

Frank wasn’t interested in his story. Frank wanted Gerard to go away and sit beside someone else. Frank didn’t want to sit by Gerard… He didn’t want a guy that close again.

“John hits…hit me,” Gerard said, choosing to keep his story short, too. Dr. Beacon wouldn’t allow it. Not for a first timer. “I left him.” It sounded like a question.

“How long were you in the relationship?” Dr. Beacon asked.

“Four years,” Gerard breathed. 

“When did he start becoming abusive?” If Gerard refused to answer, Dr. Beacon would let him get away with it, but Gerard just kept speaking.

“The second week…after we moved in together.” Gerard shifted in his seat and Frank instinctively leaned away from the man in the dark clothes.

“I think that, Frank, you could relate to Gerard a little bit. Right?” Dr. Beacon pressed. Frank stared at the floor. 

“Ch-Ch-Charlie h-hit m-me,” Frank stuttered, “th-the first d-d-day I m-moved i-in. S-said he was s-sorry, b-but h-he lied. He-he’s no-not…”

“Okay,” Dr. Beacon said, putting Frank out of his misery.

The session continued with Dr. Beacon explaining how good of a thing it was that they all had worked up the strength to leave the abusive situation, and how brave they all were for seeking help to deal with emotional wounds that all of the blows had caused. 

Frank stopped listening after that and stared at the floor for the rest of the hour. He needed a speech coach more than a counselor, because he’d never learn to trust again, but he might be able to speak normally again one day.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Where the fuck have you been!?” John spat as soon as Gerard had the front door cracked open. He was so frightened that he just dropped his keys from his hand and cowered as John ambushed him. “Get the fuck in here! You had me worried fuckin’ sick!” Gerard squealed in fear as he was pulled into the townhouse and shoved further into the room. 

“I’m sorry!” He cried, tears instantly forming in his eyes. He was so terrified—knowing pain would come if he couldn’t calm the beast. It was a horrible way to live. He was miserable and all he wanted was to come home and feel safe. 

“Where were you?! Out getting fucked by somebody else!?”

“No!” Gerard pleaded, going to his lover and grabbing his clenched hands in hopes to hold them. His affectionate motions were slapped away and he ended up on the living room floor. “No, baby, please!” Gerard cried. “I-I was volunteering!” He sobbed, voice and body shaking. “I was volunteering at the elementary school—it was an art project! I was just teaching them to draw…” He didn’t know if he was crying because he was scared or because he was lying.

“Teaching kids drawing?” John asked, stooping down at Gerard’s side. Gerard whimpered and nodded his head quickly, so afraid that John could see the lie. “Aw, sweetie…you like that kind of thing, don’t you?” Gerard nodded and raised the back of his hand to his nose to wipe it.

“It’s run through my art school…I really like kids, John,” Gerard whimpered. “I really like to draw.” Gerard tried not to flinch when his boyfriend reached out towards him, and inclined his cheek against his boyfriend’s palm when John started caressing his face. 

“You wanna draw a picture for me next time, baby?” John asked in a gentle voice. He wasn’t mad…he wasn’t mad anymore. He believed the lie…

Gerard never lied to him, so he believed the lie.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank slammed the door behind him and locked it quickly—both deadbolts and the chain lock. He wasn’t being followed, but he always felt like he was. He was terrified that Charlie would find him here. So mind-numbingly petrified that he couldn’t even think straight. 

He locked all of his doors and he barricaded his windows even though he lived on the third floor. He showered with clothes on and couldn’t sleep without lights. He couldn’t have the TV on because then he couldn’t hear what was happening in the next room…and he didn’t listen to music for reasons that were just about the same.

Every day, he came home and hid under his blankets while his parents paid his bills because he was too afraid to be alive, and too timid to live around other people to live at home with his family. If he heard sound, he couldn’t sleep…the walls of his apartment are thin and he’s always tired.

Slowly, Frank walked around his apartment, looking behind furniture and underneath tables and his bed…he checked every square inch of his home, top to bottom, cupboard to _oven_ and didn’t stop until he was sure he was alone. 

He stopped in the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of water. He wanted to take more of his pills so he could sleep, but he was afraid to sleep so he talked himself out of it again. 

As he raised the glass of water to his lips for a second time, there was a loud slam. Frank screamed, without time to register that it was just the shower turning on in the apartment above him, and dropped the glass to the floor. 

He shrieked and pressed back against his cabinets and slowly sank to the floor in a shaking mess of tears and fright. Even after realizing that there was nothing to be afraid of, the shame still left him in a ball on the floor…weeping and wanting his fucking life back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Phase Two: Violent Episode_

“It’s Mom.” There were three knocks on the door after the words were muttered outside of his door. The words were barely audible, but Frank heard them. He heard everything. “Frank?” 

Slowly he got up from the couch and crept towards his apartment door. It was routine. His mother would come twice a week at exactly— _exactly_ —three PM, she would say she was outside the door, _then_ knock, then she would sometimes call for him. 

It had to be that order… If she knocked first, the sound would scare him so badly he wouldn’t be able to approach the door. If she called his name he would shudder and try to hide away in his bed sheets.

“M-Mom?” Frank asked, looking through the peephole in the door and making sure it really was his mother and not some monster masquerading her voice.

“Yes, Frank,” his mother says softly from the other side of the door. Frank undoes the locks and lets her in, knowing right away by her posture that she’s in no mood to visit him. It makes his want to cry.

“H-hi, Mom,” Frank whispers, closing the door quickly behind her and trying to act normal as he redoes the locks. The only reason he hasn’t been put in a hospital yet is because he’s hidden how bad his condition really is from his mother.

“How are your meetings going?” his mother asks as she carries bags of groceries into his kitchen. Frank follows her dejectedly, knowing he’s a burden. Knowing he’s worthless, broken, and a waste of flesh.

“Th-they’re g-good, Mom,” Frank whispers, walking behind her and helping her put the groceries away. He remembered, long ago, going to the store as a kid and helping his mother pick out food—maybe even crying to get a candy bar or two… Then he remembers going to the store with Charlie and getting smacked in the meat aisle in front of all the other customers for refusing to take the free sample offered by the “cute” worker.

“I’m tired of your two-word answers, Frank,” his mother snaps. “I’m _really_ tired.” Frank whimpered and hurried with the groceries.

“Th-there’s a-a…anoth-another m-m-man,” Frank whispered.

“Goddamnit, Frank!” His mother shouted, slamming a box of cereal down on the counter. Frank managed a tiny scream and sank to the floor, enraging his mother even further. He just couldn’t help it—anger scared him. He couldn’t take it. “You lead me to believe that you can’t even leave your fucking room and then tell me how you want to _date_ someone!?”

“N-n-not d-d-date, M-Mom,” Frank stammered from the floor, falling into tears. “N-Not d-date,” he cried. “J-Just a-another m-man in th-the g-g-group s-so I’m n-not the o-only one a-anym-more.” Frank chanced a nervous glance up at his mother. She was watching his sadly, feeling ashamed—he was sure—for getting so angry. “Y-you d-d-don’t know wh-what it’s l-like to ha-have n-no one t-to re-relate t-to…th-they’re a-all girls.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” she said harshly. “It shouldn’t matter, because these stupid meetings don’t even help you!” Frank just cringed and let the tears fall silently. “You don’t want to get better—it’s just so easy to stay locked up this fucking place with me and your dad paying for everything for you!”

“N-no,” Frank sobbed. “N-no, I-I w-want o-o-out of h-here!” He cried. “I w-want o-out! I d-d-don’t want t-to be af-afraid of e-everything!”

“Quit fucking stammering like that,” his mother hissed, her temper getting the best of her in a way Frank hadn’t seen since he was a child. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Now you get your ass up off that floor and help me put this shit away.”

His mother turned her back to him and Frank slowly got to his feet, shaking as he continued putting the food away and considering letting himself starve to death instead of eating it. He’d had thoughts of suicide long before he even met Charlie, but the thoughts were so much more tempting now…

Now that he had a real reason to die.

“Frank,” his mother said once all of the groceries were away and the plastic bags all in the trash.

“Y-yes?” Frank asked, trying to fight his stutter but unable to conquer it.

“Frank, if you don’t start showing some improvement, your father and I are going to…we’ve decide that it’d be best if we put you in the rehabilitation centre until you start…feeling better.” Frank felt his heart sink into his stomach and he couldn’t help that the tears that started falling again. “It’d be cheaper than this apartment and all of these groceries—and I think you might do better with those therapists than you are with the one you’re seeing now.”

“I-I d-don’t w-w-want—”

“Then get a job, Frank,” his mother said, shaking her head and sighing. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t afford it, even with your father’s help. Get a job—get out of the house. I’m not asking you to stand in a court and press charges on that man—I’m asking you to just take your fucking life back. You’re not doing anything for anyone rotting away in this place, pissing your bed in fear every night.”

“I d-don’t…piss the b-bed,” Frank muttered, staring at the kitchen floor and feeling weak. 

“It doesn’t matter,” his mother spat. “What matters is you’re wasting your life—and you’re wasting my time.” She continued to explain the benefits of the hospital…the “rehabilitation centre” and all of its regulations and nonsense. Frank wasn’t listening though. He was crying and trying hard not to think about how easy it would be stop eating and starve…take a knife and slit his wrists…jump head-first out a window or leap out in front of a car.

Or maybe he’d just go back to Charlie…he’d be dead within an hour if he did that.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard tried fighting back again, maybe empowered by the strong wills he’d seen in the counseling group…

Tried fighting back.

“You little bitch,” his boyfriend seethed, staring Gerard down after shoving him to the floor. “You think you can walk around _my_ house, eat _my_ food, and sleep in _my_ fucking bed and treat me like garbage?” 

“I don’t,” Gerard groaned, rolling onto his stomach only to receive a harsh kick to the side. 

“Yes, you do!” John screamed. “You little bitch!” Another harsh kick and Gerard regretted having ever talked back to his lover. “Fuck you!” Another kick, and then another and another until finally Gerard was left gagging and gasping for air. The blows kept coming—to his ribs, to his stomach, his legs, arms, throat, face—hitting everywhere.

“Johnny, please!” Gerard tried screaming—his voice wheezy. “Stop!—Please, stop!”

“Shut up!” John shouted, kicking again and leaving Gerard in a bleeding mess on the floor… The kicks had broken the skin on the side of his head and blood was just draining from the wound. “You’re fuckin’ bleeding on my God damned floor…get up and clean yourself off, worthless bitch…” John left the room with a sigh, like nothing was wrong…like he hadn’t committed any crime and had nothing to repent. 

“John,” Gerard whispered, struggling to get up but feeling too heavy to even lift his bleeding head. “John!” He called out louder.

“What!?” His lover screamed, storming back into the room.

“Why…why do you do this?” Gerard asked, looking up at him sadly. “What did I do?”

“Fuckin’ pissed me off, what do you think?” John answered. “If you didn’t act like I owe you something—like…like I should worship your fuckin’ existence because you’re pretty and I should be ‘lucky to have you’ I wouldn’t have to put you back in your place would I?” Gerard just stared at him and made a quiet noise of pain. “But no, you got some huge-ass ego…thinking you’re better than everyone, better than _me._ But you’re the lucky one, sweetheart—because you can’t have anyone better than me! No one else would _ever_ put up with your shit and your worthless art-loving dreams! You hear me!?” John always did this when he got upset. “Your art is _shit._ You can’t even fuckin’ _draw!_ ” John always tore him down in the place he felt most confident—his art. “I don’t know why that elementary school wants _your_ help teaching kids to draw—unless it’s because you suck and it won’t make the kids feel bad.”

Gerard just let his body rest on the floor and cried, closing his eyes and feeling defeated. What was the point of trying? Why did he even go to the meetings when he knew that life had nothing better in store for him than this?—than John…

“Do you love me?” Gerard whimpered.

“You?” John asked. Gerard curled up into a tighter ball on the floor and sobbed, voice going into a high pitch and cracking. That meant no. John didn’t love him…and if John didn’t love him, then no one did. “Who could ever love you?”

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerry? Baby?” 

Gerard gasped and tried not to show his fear as his boyfriend came home an hour early. He wasn’t doing anything wrong—he was just washing up the dishes like he was supposed to—but he was so scared.

“I-In the k-kitchen,” Gerard stuttered. He trembled at the sound of his own voice, hating the way his voice shook because it would make John angry.

“Hey, Baby,” John said, wandering slowly into the kitchen. Gerard just busied himself with the dishes, trying not to let his terror show. John was like a shark in the water—and fear was like blood. He was lured to it and it drove him into a frenzy. 

“H-Hi, Johhny,” Gerard gasped, shaking as his boyfriend came up behind him and wound his arms around his waist, lowering his head to nuzzle his neck in what was once a loving gesture. He wanted to comment on how his lover was home early, but was afraid to even open his mouth. “H-How was work?”

“Why you shakin’, Baby?”

“I-I’m not,” Gerard lied, immediately feeling his legs give out as he lied.

“What’s gotten into you?” John snapped. “I get out early to come see you and you act like a little fuckin’—”

“I just—I just get scared after bad dreams,” Gerard lied again, covering his face in terror as he laid on the floor. 

“Bad dreams?” John asked. 

“I t-took a nap on the couch on accident,” Gerard said, starting to cry. “I d-dreamt someone broke in and when you came home early, I got scared. I’m sorry.”

“Aw…Aw, Baby—no crying now.” John knelt down and helped Gerard stand back up. “I don’t care that you took a nap. Come on—I got us reservations.”

“Reservations?” Gerard asked, wiping his eyes quickly.

“In the city, Baby—a good place. You’ll get to put your nice suit on.”

“We don’t have…” Gerard stopped himself mid-sentence and returned to the dishes despite the hands pawing at him. 

“We don’t have what?” John snapped.

“We don’t have…dates that often. It makes them special, I think,” Gerard whispered, scrubbing a pan too intensely. 

“I hope you’re happy then,” John snapped. Gerard whimpered and tried to keep from crying. “You could try to show it, fuckin’ bitch.” John slapped him hard across his ass and left the kitchen with a quietly building rage that made Gerard want to fall through the gaps in the tiled floor.

“Johnny?” Gerard called, shutting off the sink and chasing after his lover, wiping his wet hands on his pant legs. “Johnny!?”

“What?” John asked aggressively. “What?—fucking slut.”

“I…Thank you, Johnny. I’m…really excited, I just don’t know how to act.”

“No,” John snapped. Gerard froze in the middle of their living room and wrung his hands anxiously. “Forget it—we’re not going.” 

Gerard felt his heart sink into his stomach and lowered his gaze to the floor, starting to cry. He ruined everything…it was no wonder John hit him all the time. He ruined everything.

“Quit fuckin’ crying,” John said, whipping around and slapping Gerard hard across the face. Gerard just covered his cheek and whimpered. Somehow, that made it worse. “Stop it!” John shouted, turning his slap into a punch. The blows fell on Gerard’s already bruised face, making already scarred lips bleed. “I try to come home to a nice house, and I try to keep you happy, and what do I get?” John snarled. “A whiny little bitch…Do you even appreciate anything that I do for you?”

“Yes,” Gerard whimpered. 

“You sure don’t show it,” John said, walking away like he hadn’t just beaten his boyfriend’s face. 

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerard?” Dr. Beacon asked just as the meeting commenced. “Is there something you’d like to share with me or the group?” Frank noticed all of the bruises and marks covering the other man’s face and neck…and hands…pretty much every inch of his exposed skin. There were even flecks of blood in his hair. 

“N-no,” Gerard stuttered, lowering his head and staring at his hands. 

“Someone hurt you, Gerard,” Dr. Beacon said in the soothing voice she always did to get reluctant participants talking. It worked on Frank most of the time, and it would work on Gerard, too.

“Yes,” Gerard admitted.

Gerard had told the group that he’d left his boyfriend, but Frank didn’t think that was true. Frank thought that Gerard lied so that he wouldn’t be the only person in the group who hadn’t worked up the courage to run away…

If only he understood that everyone here knew how hard it was to run. Frank still had nightmares about working up that courage…still, sometimes, wished that he never had taken that plunge. 

If Gerard were willing to talk about his fears…Frank would…F-Frank would help him t-take the first steps…

He didn’t know what help he could be. He even stuttered in his thoughts.

So while Gerard continued to deny that he had a problem, Frank just stared at the floor in silence while Monica looked at him repeatedly in hopes that he would speak out and offer Gerard his support. If only she realized that it wasn’t so easy…especially not with a stutter that made him difficult to understand as it was.

“Gerard…I know this is a difficult time for you, and everyone here can relate to that,” Dr. Beacon said. “Did you really leave your boyfriend?”

“N-No,” Gerard whispered.

“Why did you tell us that you did?” Dr. Beacon asked. Her voice was not harsh or pressing, it was like she was asking a simple question. 

“Ev…Everyone else…” That was all Gerard said.

“Because everyone else had already left, did you feel that it was a requirement for the group?”

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, stuttering in every sentence that he spoke. That was what woke Frank out of his stupor. When voices shook that badly every time they tried to speak, it meant that the situation was dangerously out of hand.

“Why did you say that you had left your boyfriend?” Dr. Beacon asked again. 

“B-because e-everyone else…everyone else had already left and I’d…I’d just set everyone back,” Gerard whispered.

“Yes, this is a place for progress, but adopting new people in does not in any way set us back. If anything, it reminds everyone here of why they left their situations, how it was a good decision, and in helping you feel more confident they’ll all be able to feel that much better about themselves.” Gerard didn’t say anything. He just stared at the floor quietly. “Gerard?”

“Yes?” Gerard answered, keeping his head lowered. Frank knew these gestures so well. Gerard was going to drop out of the group if he didn’t get a better reason to stay…

“What happened?” Dr. Beacon asked.

“I made him mad,” Gerard mumbled softly.

“How?” Gerard only shrugged and Dr. Beacon sighed heavily. Gerard didn’t want helped anymore. He’d given up. “How, Gerard?” Another shrug.

“D-don’t…d-don’t believe it e-every t-time he t-tells y-you it’s y-your f-f-fault,” Frank choked out. He didn’t know why he wanted to help this other man, he didn’t know why he cared or why he tried… He just felt like he needed to. Maybe if Gerard made progress, Frank would, too. 

And if he made progress, he wouldn’t be sent to a psych ward.

“What was that, Frank?” Dr. Beacon asked. Frank swallowed hard and began to shake.

“Th-they a-always say i-it’s y-your fault,” Frank whispered, looking down at his hands. “Th-they come home m-mad and th-they’ll hi-hit you…they’ll s-say it’s y-your f-fault, b-but you d-didn’t d-do anything. Th-they know th-they’re hu-hurting you, and they kn-know y-you’re af-afraid of th-them, a-and th-that they’re h-hard to l-lo-love…” The word love left his throat raw. “Th-they’ll say i-it’s b-because you d-don’t l-lo…love th-them enough. B-but y-you do…and they don’t d-deserve…it.”

It was the most Frank had ever said during a session…and perhaps even the most he’d said at one time since leaving Charlie. He wasn’t sure that Gerard—or anyone—could even understand him through his stutter or low tone of voice, but he hoped at least part of his words go through and weren’t wasted. 

He didn’t feel any better, but he guessed that it could be called progress…

“That’s true,” Monica whispered, crossing her legs and sighing. 

“That’s a very valid point, Frank,” Dr. Beacon said, nodding in approval. Maybe if Frank was lucky, she’d write a little note he could take back to his mommy saying he was making progress in the class—but instead of getting un-grounded like a child would, he would keep himself out of the institution. “What do you think, Gerard?”

“I think…he l-lied about the reservations to make me sad.” Gerard hadn’t mentioned reservations before, but everyone understood. It was a common trick—build hopes up and dash them. That was what lovers did.

“H-He just l-likes hitting y-you,” Frank said, surprising himself with how firmly he spoke. “H-He’s n-not g-going to a-actually t-t-take you s-some p-place n-nice. N-not u-unless he c-can hu-humiliate y-you th-th-there.”

“Are you speaking from an experience you’d like to share, Frank?” Dr. Beacon asked. She liked to make him relive his traumas… She liked watching him squirm.

“N-No…” Frank mumbled. He glanced at Gerard in time to watch the other man’s shoulders slowly drop. “J-Just…just a-a l-lot o-of b-b-bad d-dates wi-with Ch-Ch-Charlie…”

“Gerard, do you have family you can go to?” Dr. Beacon asked. 

“No,” Gerard whispered. “I mean…my family is alive, but…they won’t take me in.”

“Y-you d-don’t have a j-job,” Frank whispered. He didn’t know how to formulate what he was thinking—it was too complex a thought, too deep an understanding—and his words came out sounding like an accusation.

“What?” The black-haired man whispered, almost daring to get a little bit upset.

“Y-You d-don’t h-have money…s-so you c-cant hi-hide in a ho-hotel o-or d-drive a-away to s-someplace s-safe,” Frank whispered in return. “Wh-what do th-they e-expect you t-to do?”

“Who?” Gerard asked, whispering and looking at Frank like he somehow held all of the answers. Frank didn’t know any answers…so he just shrugged.

“Y-you c-could l-look for a job wh-when he’s out,” Frank mumbled. “D-don’t let him kn-know. C-cover your tracks. Don’t s-spend any money… G-Get enough, g-get a hotel for th-the n-next w-week so y-you can s-save m-more. He-He’ll give up af-after a while and…and h-he won’t chase you anymore u-unless…unless you let him.”

The words were slightly damning to Frank’s own ears. 

“Gerard, do you think that that’s a possibility for you right now?” Dr. Beacon asked. “Leaving?”

Gerard was silent for a moment and then shook his head. 

“I can’t,” he breathed. “I-I…I’ll mess up. H-he’ll hurt me more.” Gerard bit his lip hard and looked to Frank in fear. Those bruises on his face extended further than his skin and bone. They were marks on his soul that were never going to fade away. “I can’t…” Gerard pulled into himself and shivered as if the words were some ooze sliding down his back. 

Dr. Beacon asked if anyone else had any advice for Gerard and a few of the regulars spoke up with encouraging words and a little bit of advice. Gerard hardly looked empowered. He looked closed off and like he was prepared to leave this session and never look back.

Frank didn’t want to see that happen. Gerard reminded him of himself, and he wanted to see Gerard get better…because then maybe he would get better too. If Gerard failed, then Frank knew he would fail, too. If Gerard quit the group, Frank might as well put on the straight-jacket and go into the rehabilitation centre without a fight…

As the session neared its end—with few comments from Gerard—Frank began to feel panicked. He couldn’t lose Gerard… He needed that other male presence, someone who could relate to him.

He had to say something so that Gerard would keep coming back—even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

“G-Gerard?” Frank stammered as everyone was getting up and leaving. 

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, shaking when Frank called his name too loudly. It made Frank feel guilty. He’d never been the one to strike fear in another human…he spent his whole life cowering. It didn’t even feel good to be on the other side.

Making Gerard look at him with those large, green…hazel eyes…fearful…Frank didn’t like that. He wanted Gerard to smile at him, because Frank desperately wanted to smile again.

“If…If y-you…” Frank felt like he might throw up. His stomach was doing flips and his heart was pounding. “If y-you e-e-ever w-w-want t-to t-t-t-talk,” Frank stammered, hating himself for stuttering worse than ever before. “I-I…I w-would l-li-listen t-to you.”

Gerard just stared at him.

“Hey, Frank? You wanna go get coffee?” Frank stiffened when his name was called, but he knew Monica’s voice.

“O-okay,” Frank said to her, wishing she hadn’t interfered with his and Gerard’s conversation.

“I-I’d…I’d like coffee sometime,” Gerard choked. “J-Just...He’s waiting. Right now, he’s at home…waiting for me to come back.”

“Wh-where does h-he think y-you are?” Frank asked. Gerard shrugged his shoulders and Frank let it drop. “If you e-ever wa-want c-coffee…I a-always g-go to the c-café d-down the st-street. I g-go th-there e-every d-day at n-noon,” Frank lied. He never left his house…but he could go out to coffee at noon every day on the off-chance that Gerard would stop by.

“Okay,” Gerard said, looking petrified. “Um…maybe sometime I’ll see you there.” And then Gerard ran away…literally ran away.

“Poor guy,” Monica said softly. Frank hummed in agreement, watching Gerard run away and then staring at the door long after he’d gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Phase Three: Making Up_

Gerard listened to the ringing on the other side of the phone with tears in his eyes. He was chanting “pick up, pick up, pick up” under his breath, but was repeating the opposite in his mind. Don’t pick up…don’t answer—please don’t answer.

“Hello?”

“H-hey, Mikey,” Gerard said, looking over his shoulder quickly at the doorway where John was standing, clutching his side in agony.

“Gerard?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered, feeling his body trembling. “Mikey, I’m _so_ , _so_ sorry about this, but I…I can’t make it to your…” He hated himself in this moment. “…your birthday party tonight.”

“What?” Mikey said, sounding so angry that it made Gerard shudder.

“I’m sorry!” Gerard whimpered. 

“Gerry,” John called in a voice overcome with pain. “Please hurry, baby. It hurts real bad.”

“You’re not coming?” Mikey asked. “You promised, Gerard! We never see you anymore! You _promised_ you’d be here tonight! Can’t you just stop in for a minute? A goddamned _second?_ ”

“It’s just that—”

“Gerry, _please,_ ” John interrupted. Gerard bit his lip hard and shuddered. He felt so bad for Johnny…and Mikey.

“John’s in a lot of pain and he needs me to take him to the emergency room. I have to take him, Mikey—and if we get out fast enough and he’s okay I’ll stop by, I promise, Mikey. I love you.”

“Whatever,” Mikey sighed. “I can’t believe you,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t even bother, Gerard. I don’t even want to see you anymore.” With that Mikey hung up the phone and Gerard turned back to his lover—his only friend on the Earth.

His friend, his lover…his abuser.

“I’m sorry, baby,” John grunted. “It’s just so much pain—I think it might be my appendix.”

“Come on,” Gerard whispered, trying hard not to cry. “Let’s go to the car—I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

John had come home early from work—keeping Gerard not only from Mikey’s birthday party but also his counseling meeting—clutching his side and pleading for Gerard to take him to the emergency room. Of course, Gerard agreed, only slightly put-off when John insisted that he call his brother to say he couldn’t make it to the party before they left.

John moaned in pain the entire drive, making Gerard worry. He was afraid of John, and sometimes he swore he hated him, but deep down he knew that he loved John and relied on him for everything from food to his self-image. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Gerard asked softly.

“I don’t know, baby,” John moaned. “Feels so bad.”

Gerard whimpered and drove a little faster, pulling into the closest available spot outside of the hospital and escorting John inside. The nurse behind the counter took them immediately into the small office where she sat John down onto the small leather bed and took his personal information down on her clipboard. 

She jotted down his symptoms and then left the room to retrieve the plastic wrist band that would identify him.

“Gerard, you should go wait in the lobby,” John said in the nurse’s absence. 

“What?” Gerard asked, feeling a twinge of pain. 

“The lobby—go wait in the lobby.”

“But I want to make sure you’re—”

“Go!” John shouted. Gerard flinched and got up from the wooden chair beside the door. He disappeared down the hallway they’d entered through and tried not to acknowledge the confused and pitiful looks that the nurses and tech assistants were giving him.

He also tried to ignore the looks from the other people sitting in the lobby waiting on their loved ones. They were horrible…the looks they all gave him when he broke into uncontrollable sobs because he realized that there was nothing wrong with John.

Nothing medically at least.

He just didn’t want Gerard to go to the party and see the family he’d been forcedly avoiding for the past two years. He wanted to keep him isolated like always…and the only way to do that was to appear ill or injured.

Gerard sat with his head in his hands and began to cry. Why did he let it get this bad? He saw all of the signs so long ago…it was his own fault that he was in this mess. It was horrible how stupid he felt. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Of course, after a couple hours—because everything moved slowly in the hospital—John returned with a smile on his face and exclaimed that everything was okay. Gerard fought the urge to say anything snide and just stood up and gave his boyfriend a display of a hug before walking out of the hospital with him arm in arm…like they weren’t going to be in a fight later.

“What’s your problem?” John snapped as soon as he closed the door after they were both in the house. 

“Nothing, Johnny,” Gerard whimpered, scurrying towards the bedroom. John gave chase and grabbed Gerard by his arm, pulling him around and slapping him hard across the face. “Nothing, Johnny!” Gerard whimpered. “I’m not upset!” He pleaded as he let himself fall down onto the floor. “I was just so worried, Johnny,” Gerard lied. He covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. “I was scared you had appendicitis or something! I thought you’d have to have surgery and that’s so risky, Johnny—I didn’t want you to get sick!”

“Oh…Aw, Baby…” Somehow, John found a piece of his heart and knelt down beside his battered boyfriend. He stroked Gerard’s hair and then gave him a hug. “Don’t cry…I thought you were being pissy because you missed your brother’s party.”

“No, Johnny,” Gerard whispered, letting his head be made to lie against John’s chest. “You’re…more important than that.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” John whispered, petting Gerard’s hair more. Gerard bit back a choke of anger and tried not to scream. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank was panicking, and although he had already had _two_ panic attacks since Gerard hadn’t arrived at the group session, he sincerely believed that he was in the grip of a third one. Repeatedly he fisted his hands in his hair and hurried around his apartment, breathing heavily and noisily, shaking and going through every possible reason Gerard had not to come. 

Maybe he was sick. Maybe he overslept somehow—because it’s easy to get tired and fall asleep when you’re depressed—maybe he ran away from his boyfriend… Maybe his boyfriend caught him trying to leave and beat him…

Frank hated envisioning Gerard cowering beneath some strange man’s fist. Gerard looked so innocent and helpless, and Frank couldn’t understand why anyone would ever want to hurt him. 

Knowing he would never find out what happened today, Frank forced himself to curl up in his bed with his sheets pulled tightly around his face to block out the pale light. 

Though he had yet to realize it, this was the very first time Frank had fallen asleep without searching his apartment for Charlie.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard arrived at the next group session with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his two black eyes. John had beaten him two days before…beaten him badly. It was the worst torture he’d ever received.

They’d been kissing like a happy couple, Gerard trying to pretend that everything was normal and that his boyfriend really loved him, and then all of a sudden, John snapped. Immediately, John just shoved him away from the couch and onto the floor screaming “I knew you were fucking cheating on me!” before throwing punch after punch—splitting Gerard’s lip, blackening his eyes, and chipping another one of his teeth.

Gerard tried getting his lover to stop—he plead with him and wept and tried spewing praises even, just in hopes that the assault would be over and they could put it past them…

But John didn’t stop. John kept going—punching over and over anywhere his fists could reach. Gerard just couldn’t comprehend it. A slap was one thing, and single punch or a shove was another…but this attack…

This attack was so brutal. There was no love anywhere in it. No love hiding behind the misdirected rage and insecurities. It was abuse. It was wrath that Gerard didn’t deserve…

But what good did it do to recognize that now? He didn’t have a family anymore, not since he’d missed Mikey’s birthday because of John’s faked appendicitis. Now, John was his whole world. He had nothing else to go on…

Except, for some reason, he crawled back to the counseling group which saw through his sunglasses and scarves. 

“Gerard?” Dr. Beacon asked in the strange, soft tone she liked to use when her patients were obviously in distress. “Are you alright under there?” Gerard guessed he had to be quite the sight…he wore sunglasses on a dark afternoon, had a scarf wrapped around his neck even though it was warm, and buried his face in whatever fabric he could to hide the bruises his makeup couldn’t conceal. 

“He hit me,” Gerard choked out. He bit his lip once the words were out and felt tears well in his eyes, making him thankful for the stupid sunglasses John had given him on their fourth date. “Hard,” he added in a weak cry. Once it was said he collapsed into tears, hating himself more and more with each one that fell. All of the other members of the group had left their attackers—he had to look so pathetic to them. He was so _weak_ compared to them.

“Gerard?” Dr. Beacon asked again.

“Yeah?” Gerard sniffed, covering his face with his hands, pushing his fingers under the lenses of his sunglasses.

“I think that it’s time you should prepare yourself to leave John,” Dr. Beacon said. “Is there any family you can stay with?”

“I’ve already told you,” Gerard cried. “No! I don’t _have_ anyone else but him—I missed my brother’s birthday. He won’t even take my calls now…not even a _call!_ ” Gerard whimpered and moved his hands to fist them in his hair. 

What was the point of all this? He couldn’t leave—he knew he couldn’t leave. Why had he thought coming here would be a good idea?

“Y-you can…you c-can st-stay with m-me,” someone stammered. “I-I’m not…I-I’m n-not li-like him.” Gerard turned his head to the man who sat beside him at every one of these meetings and stared at him through his dark shades in fear.

Maybe it was just an offer for friendship, but for Gerard those invitations had disappeared long ago. People didn’t befriend others unless they had a use for them, and Gerard didn’t want to know what Frank-with-the-Stutter wanted from him.

“Gerard,” Dr. Beacon said, drawing Gerard’s attention away from the man who was now visibly shaking and looking horrified and ashamed. “There’s a small shelter just outside of town that can offer you some protection if you have nowhere else to go.”

“I can’t stay there when I look for a job,” Gerard whispered. “C-can’t leave him until I have money.”

“Y-you d-don’t have t-time f-for money n-now,” Frank choked out. “H-he’s going t-to g-g-get w-worse. H-he’s g-going t-to m-m-ma-make it wo-worse.”

“Frank’s right,” one of the other group members said.

“Yeah, you…you need out, Sweetheart,” one of the other women stated. “If you don’t wanna stay with a man, you come stay with me at my sister’s place.” 

“I have an apartment,” the girl Gerard thought was called Monica said. “You can stay with me. It’s big enough.”

Never before had Gerard felt the level of compassion that he experienced when so many people stepped up just to help him…it was horrifying to think of what they’d say of him if he turned them down.

“Is that something you could see as an option, Gerard?” Dr. Beacon asked. Gerard trembled and took one last look at Frank who had offered first… Frank who’d been strangled within an inch of his life by his boyfriend and stammered in fear when he tried to say two words had been the first to offer shelter.

“I-I can’t make this someone else’s problem like that,” Gerard muttered, lowering his face quickly.

“N-not a b-burden,” Frank stuttered as everyone else in the group awed as if he were some pathetic, kicked puppy. “I-I w-wish s-someone h-h-had helped me. I-I had m-my m-mom la-later, a-and if y-you d-don’t ha-have th-that…th-then it’s m-my j-j-job t-to do th-that for you…I wanna…g-get better a-and h-help other p-people g-get b-b-better, t-too.”

“I can’t leave John,” Gerard whispered dumbly, knowing they’d all hate him for being so obstinate. He knew they understood what he was going through, but at the same time he wanted to cry out that they didn’t. 

“Y-you can,” Frank whispered back. “H-He’s not your o-only friend—h-he just wants you t-to th-think that so he c-can b-beat you a-and k-keep you h-his f-f-fucking…f-fucking slave.” The look in Frank’s eyes could only be described as haunted. Gerard could see everything…could see into his soul, even through the darkly tinted shades. He looked around once again and was sure that no one else saw what he did.

If he left, it had to be Frank. As much as he hated the thought and feared the unknown man who sat beside him and stuttered when he talked, he knew that he wouldn’t find solace in the apartment of some woman from the group. The women wouldn’t understand the way that Frank did. The women didn’t know what it felt like to have their masculinity stripped, and to have every bit of male dignity and “man-ness” punched, choked, and slapped away. 

“Wh-where do we…meet up?” Gerard asked softly. “Wh-what do I have to do?”

“What you need to do, Gerard,” Dr. Beacon answered, “is find a time when you know he won’t be home. Pack up the things you need—only what you need and can carry with you—and find a place where you and Frank can meet up.”

“What do I do…when he finds me?” Gerard asked, lowering his head and trying not to refuse the idea as his fear overcame him.

“H-He can’t,” Frank whispered. “Th-the city is t-too b-big…Ch-Charlie c-can’t f-find m-m-me. J-John w-won’t f-find you.”

“He knows where my parents live…”

“He won’t f-find you,” Frank repeated. Somehow, Gerard felt consoled…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank gagged one last time and the last bits of the food in his stomach finally landed in the toilet. He felt so sick…it was so horrible—what had he been thinking? Offering for another man to live with him?—without even telling his mother. 

But he was so scared for Gerard—he couldn’t bear the thought of him getting beaten and tortured night after night, or ending up in some shoddy shelter with no one there to care for him. Frank wanted to protect him—he wanted to see Gerard get better, so he could get better too. 

But the anxiety was making him feel so fucking bad…He wanted to die—he wanted Gerard to get better, but he really just wanted to die…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard screamed into the pillow, trying to thrash, trying to get away. John just pinned his wrists behind his back and shoved his face further down into the pillow.

“Fuckin’ lay still!” John screamed, slapping Gerard across the back of his head. 

“Johnny, get off me!” Gerard screamed when he got his mouth away from the cotton. “Get the fuck off me!” His cry of protest turned quickly to a shrill scream when John grabbed him by the back of the neck and started squeezing with an intensity strong enough to break the bones. “Ah—stop!” Gerard cried. “Stop, Johnny—please! I’ll stop! I’ll stop!” Trying to escape more pain, Gerard ceased fighting and let John finish ripping off his clothes.

“Don’t fuckin’ try to fight me,” John hissed. “I work damned hard to provide this house for you—you don’t even have to work. The least you can do is let me fuck you once a fuckin’ night!”

Gerard only managed a small gasp of pain when John pushed his way inside. John used lube and condoms, but only because he wasn’t interested in hurting himself—just his toy…just Gerard. The pain was still bad, though. The pain in his body and the betrayal in his chest.

They were once happy—Johnny had once made him so, so happy. How had it become this?

“P-please, Baby,” Gerard whimpered when the pain became too much. “Please—slow down.” His voice wasn’t even audible over his lover’s heated puffs of air. “Please, Johnny…Please.” Quietly, he started sobbing, feeling the tears stain the pillow alongside his spit and sweat. He felt so helpless…he wanted saved. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted Frank—the terrified man who stammered instead of spoke. 

It was strange to think that someone so weak could be a source of protection for him…but Frank just made him feel like there was hope left for him—like he could be saved and protected.

“Frank…” Gerard whispered. But the whispered must’ve been just a bit too loud.

“Who the FUCK is Frank!?”

( ) ( ) ( )

He lay on the floor, whimpering and trembling as John continued screaming and hissing at him. He was a cheater, he was a whore, he was an “insensitive, ungrateful asshole.” Gerard lay on the floor crying, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that fell onto the blanket beneath him. This had been going on since the night before, since Gerard let slip that he was thinking of Frank and wishing for his comfort whilst he was in John’s grasp.

“—and your lyin’ mouth when you say you love me!” John shouted. Gerard let out a shaking sigh and closed his eyes tightly. He couldn’t take much more of this…he just couldn’t take it.

“Well…maybe if you didn’t hit me so much,” he dared to utter past split lips and two more chipped teeth.

“The fuck did you say!?” John snapped, circling around Gerard’s makeshift bed of blankets on the floor and kicking him harshly in the side. Gerard squeaked in pain and shifted his head to hide his face from any blow that might come its way.

“I said, ‘I wouldn’t be with Frank if you didn’t hit me!’” Gerard shrieked, knowing his was bringing more rage onto himself but not caring at all. Let John hit him, let John kill him… He didn’t care anymore. 

“I fuckin’ hit you because you fuckin’ cheat on me on me all the time!”

“How the fuck do I cheat!?” Gerard screamed, flashing his hurt and angry eyes up at his attacked. “I never leave! You’re always _here!_ ”

“That’s bullshit! I bet you have him in our bed—in my bed! The bed I bought for _you!_ ”

“For me?” Gerard argued, rolling his eyes and simultaneously sighing in pain as he rolled over. “How can you say that you’ve done _anything_ for me!? All you do is hit me, and yell at me, and belittle me—you’re mean! John, you’re mean, and I hate you!”

“Fuckin’ hate me!?” John spat. “You hate me!? Fine! That’s just fine, Gerard! Because I gave you my _life!_ I gave you _everything!_ And you _hate_ me!” And, of course, John looked like he might cry. The guilt trip always worked…even when Gerard was in incredible pain and felt no sort of compassion from his attacker, he felt horrible when someone cried because of him.

“John…John I didn’t mean it like that,” Gerard let himself whimper. “It’s just…you hit me so much and you hurt my feelings and it feels like…it feels like you don’t love me anymore.” Why was he trying to console John? Why was he trying to fix this broken, toxic thing?

“Why should I?” John asked. “Why should I love you when you don’t do anything right and you don’t even show appreciation for what I do? I take you out and you just stare at me like a fuckin’ deer in headlights.”

“Because you hit me!” Gerard pleaded. “I’m scared of you! When you take me out, you usually get mad so I’m scared! I don’t know what to do!”

“Act like you love me!” John spat. “Love me!”

“I can’t when you hit me!” Gerard cried, dropping back down into the blanket on the floor and sobbing. “You used to be so nice to me…why did you stop? I loved you…”

John said nothing. He just stood there and watched as Gerard cried.

“I gotta go to work,” John said after several minutes. “Clean this place up while I’m gone or else you’re going to find out what it’s like to _actually_ be abused.” As he listened to him walk away, Gerard felt helpless. He lay on the floor shaking, knowing that before Johnny left, he’d kick him one last time and say one last hurtful thing that would make him wish he’d never been born. 

“I thought you were my soulmate,” John said after delivering the kick that Gerard anticipated. “You’re not even my friend.”

“Yeah,” Gerard choked. “I know what you mean,” he sobbed. The sob turned to a scream when John kicked him in the ribs twice before spitting out obscenities and leaving the townhouse with a slam of the door.

As soon as he was gone Gerard pulled himself up off the floor and staggered into the bathroom where he washed off the remains of blood and other fluids, painted on a new face, and grimaced at the sight of all his jagged teeth.

First, he was going to find a new place to live. Then he was going to get a job, save him money, and repair all five of his chipped front teeth so that when he smiled, people wouldn’t think he was some sort of demon…if he ever found it in himself to smile again.

Slowly, Gerard dressed himself and stole a suitcase from the back of his and John’s closet. He packed slowly, not because he was having second thoughts, but because he was in pain. By the time he packed his most favorite clothes, his makeup, and needed personal belongings, he had filled the suitcase to its bursting point…

So he dragged it down the sidewalk towards the theatre where Frank and the rest of the counseling group would be, his coat and scarf on, and his sunglasses carefully placed over his face.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank felt himself fill with terror when he spotted the suitcase sitting behind Gerard’s chair. Yes he wanted Gerard to be safe, yes he wanted to help, but not that that was going to become a reality, he was utterly terrified. A man was going to live in his house, and if he couldn’t handle it and use the situation to get himself better, he was going to end up in an institution, being treated like a lunatic.

“Gerard?” Dr. Beacon asked. Gerard looked towards her with his shade-covered eyes and Frank felt a spark of worry light off in his chest. Gerard just looked at her. He didn’t answer her. “Gerard? How badly are you hurt?” Gerard just shook his head. “You have a place to stay tonight?” Slowly, nervously, Gerard started turning his head towards Frank.

“M-me,” Frank stammered. “H-he’s g-going to c-come home w-with me.”

“Okay,” Dr. Beacon said, nodding slowly. “Will you two, after the session, wait around and talk to me for a little bit?” Frank looked to Gerard and nodded slowly. Gerard hummed quietly. Dr. Beacon stared at him with concern for a moment and then turned her eyes back towards the rest of her group. “Alright,” she began. “Where would you all like to start today? We’ve covered reasons for leaving and ways to find support in the community…how about what happens after?”

“After?” One of the women asked. “After what? After finding your own place? After what?”

“After you’ve gotten back on your feet. Say you have your own place—as most of you do—and your own job, you’re self-supporting…now what do you do?”

“What else is there?” Another woman snapped, because everyone in the room knew what she meant, especially Frank who fought to keep from bolting out of his seat and running for the door. Gerard tensed as if he were wishing to do the same.

“Trusting again,” Dr. Beacon said quietly. “This is a rough part of our sessions, but it’s the part where you all take your power back—move on from the abuse and _let yourself_ find someone you can trust. Now, I’m not saying that you all should go home and make online-dating profiles or start frequenting the bar looking for lovers. I’m saying that at some time, a man is going to approach you beautiful, wonderful women and men, and he’s not going to want to hurt you.” Frank cast down his eyes and stared at the floor, just like most of the others…except Monica who hummed happily because she didn’t need to be here anymore. She was already better. “How are you going to react to this situation?”

Frank slowly raised his eyes and glanced at Gerard. Was this meeting for him? Was Gerard that man who was going to approach him?...approach him and not want to hurt him? But there was no way…there was no way Frank would ever let himself love again, or be loved again. 

And that was why he was going to end up in an institution. Because he _refused_ to recover.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Frank, it’s very important that you think this decision over,” Dr. Beacon said. Gerard was standing beside Frank, clutching his bag tightly and worrying that he was about to lose his safe haven and end up on the street for the night. 

“I h-have th-thought it o-over,” Frank mumbled. Frank looked terrified, almost as terrified as Gerard felt. “I-If I d-don’t…d-don’t do th-this, I’ll never forgive my-myself…” Gerard didn’t know what life would be like living with Frank, but it couldn’t be any worse than living with John. Frank wasn’t violent—he was ill, but he wasn’t violent.

“I understand that you want to offer help,” Dr. Beacon mumbled. “But, Frank, you exhibit the most fear of all my patients—I’m afraid that you might overwhelm yourself. I can offer Gerard a place to stay—we won’t put him out on the streets.”

“I can do this,” Frank said, his voice unusually firm. “If h-he stays w-with me, I c-can get b-better.” Dr. Beacon stared at him after he said this as though he’d admitted a crime. Gerard felt his stomach sink slightly as he realized that he was merely a means to an end for Frank, and that Frank didn’t so much want to help him as help himself.

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Beacon asked.

“B-because…i-in the g-group, I-I w-was th-the o-only g-guy and i-it’s d-different, and…he understands! G-Gerard understands wh-what it’s like, unlike th-those women.” 

Gerard looked at Frank sadly, and although he was concerned about Frank’s motives for wanting him to move in, he _did_ understand. Women had the same fears as men did after an attack—even more fears, like pregnancy or even an inability to get pregnant after an assault—but there was the guilt with men, and the shame and self-disgust. Most people didn’t blame female rape victims, but for men…men are supposed to be stronger, more powerful, smarter. Men are supposed to be with women—most of all—and it was their own fault if they were hurt because they were in a relationship with another man. 

“Okay,” Dr. Beacon said. “If you’re both comfortable with this, I won’t get in the way. I just want to make sure that you know it’s not your only option.”

“I-If I don’t g-get b-better, m-my m-mother is p-putting me in a ho-hospital,” Frank said, looking like he might begin to cry. Gerard sunk his teeth into his lower lip and stared at the floor. He didn’t know the extent of Frank’s paranoia, but he didn’t look like he needed to be hospitalized. 

“Okay,” Dr. Beacon said softly. “Gerard, could you wait outside for a few minutes?”

“Outside?” Gerard asked with a slightly shaking voice. 

“Just outside the room,” Dr. Beacon repeated, motioning towards a door Gerard had never paid mind to before. “It’ll only be a minute.” Gerard didn’t refuse and started towards the door slowly, carrying his bag with him and trying not to look like baggage himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank’s apartment was small…smaller, of course, than Gerard and John’s townhouse. Gerard liked it though. He could practically see all of the rooms from a central point in the apartment and it made him feel secure. 

“I-I’ll h-have to t-tell m-m-my m-m-mo-mom,” Frank choked out. He was visibly shaking and Gerard wished there was a way to calm him and let him know that he meant no harm. Gerard had no interest in making life unpleasant for Frank, Frank was his savior. 

“I can…call my brother tomorrow,” Gerard mumbled, trying to find the best way to look grateful without looking like a mooch who just wanted to take over the apartment. 

“Why?” Frank asked.

“Well…” Gerard stared at the floor and felt himself beginning to shake. They stayed in silence for ten minutes, Frank messing with something in the kitchen and Gerard staring at the floor.

“You’re safe here,” Frank said, voice not even trembling. “He can’t find you.” Somehow, Gerard felt consoled, because if Frank was so certain that Johnny couldn’t catch him—Frank who was so afraid of everything—then Gerard was sure he had nothing to fear.

He didn’t feel completely secure, but he didn’t feel terrified or defenseless either.

“A-are you sure your mom won’t mind me staying in your apartment?” Gerard felt a little funny asking a grown man how his mother would react to them living together, but he didn’t know what Frank’s situation was—although he was fairly certain that Frank was not paying for the apartment himself.

“She…won’t be happy, but she can’t get mad. I mean…you’ll help me get better…”

“Why do you think that I’m going to be able to help you?” Gerard asked, trying not to feel used. Sure, Frank was using him for reasons different than John had…but being used in any way didn’t feel very nice. 

“F-for over a year…I-I haven’t r-really left my apartment. I-I don’t have a-any friends and…m-my parents decided to p-put me in a-an institution if I d-don’t sh-show signs of i-improvement.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said, feeling taken aback and slightly mortified. Would his family do the same to him if he tried to come home as an emotional wreck? “H-how can I help? Wh-what makes it better?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “Do you want to sit on the couch?” 

“S-sure,” Gerard said, backing into the living room and sitting down on the couch slowly. Frank quickly sat down in the chair across from it and pulled his feet onto the cushion.

“Um…I’ve never had a guest over before,” Frank said softly. “Not in a few years…do you need a drink? Are you thirsty?”

Gerard shook his head. Drinks—hot or cold—killed his teeth where they were weakened and chipped.

“Okay,” Frank answered. “I…I guess…um…” Frank fell into an awkward silence and Gerard continued staring at the floor.

“He made me miss my brother’s birthday…”

“And now your brother won’t talk to you,” Frank mumbled.

“Yeah…”

“Go to his house…”

“I can’t.”

“You can…”

“What am I going to say?” Gerard asked. “‘Sorry, Mikey, my boyfriend lied about having appendicitis and made me miss your party’…?”

“Yes,” Frank mumbled. “They’ll understand better than you think.”

“You don’t know my family,” Gerard mumbled.

“N-neither d-do you,” Frank whispered. Gerard flinched and passed Frank an unhappy glance. “They’re n-not g-going to abandon y-you. M-Mikey will t-take o-one l-look at you and f-feel s-so awful th-that he-he’ll probably b-blame himself f-for e-everything a-and you’ll st-stand there f-feeling l-like an idiot f-for telling him…”

Gerard looked down at the floor, becoming overwhelmed with the idea that Frank might be right. Mikey wasn’t as heartless as he envisioned him to be. Right now, his little brother’s feeling were hurt, thinking that he had slighted him just because—but Mikey would forgive him. Mikey _always_ forgave him. 

For everything.

“C-Can I use your phone to call him?” Gerard asked softly.

“Tonight?” Frank sounded startled and Gerard couldn’t help the tremor that ran up his spine.

“Um…n-no,” Gerard mumbled. “I mean…I just…he ignores me number, and—I don’t know…tomorrow maybe.”

“N-no,” Frank said.

“Oh—sorry. I’m sorry—I should, um—no, I should go—”

“No!” Frank cried, getting to his feet quickly as if Gerard had attempted to stand up and flee. “No—I meant, no you don’t have to wait until tomorrow. Call him whenever you want to. Tonight or…o-or the d-day after tomorrow…”

“Oh,” Gerard said, looking into Frank’s wide, frightened eyes.

“Sorry…I’m b-bad at—”

“You don’t stutter when you’re mad,” Gerard mumbled softly, interrupting Frank’s self-hating words. 

“I-I know…”

“Or when you’re anxious…” 

“I-I kn-know…”

“When did it…start?”

“A-around the s-same time yours di-did, I su-suppose…”

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, only stuttering because he was taken aback—wanting to say “what does that mean” and “what are you saying” both at the same time and settling only on the first word.

“Your stutter…you stutter at our sessions sometimes…”

“And you forget to sometimes,” Gerard muttered, almost angrily. 

“I don’t…forget. I just…when I n-need to say it, i-it come out o-okay…I’m trying to fi-fix it so I…d-don’t get locked up in the mental ward.”

“What did…Charlie do to you?” Gerard asked quietly. He immediately regretted letting his curiosity take hold of him—it was the sort of question that got him slapped by Johnny. The sort of punishments he knew he did deserve… It wasn’t that he was trying to pry. He just wanted to understand, and he wanted someone he could relate to. Frank was so different from the women in the counseling group. Frank _understood_ the embarrassment he had and how ashamed he was that, as a man, he let himself get into this sort of desolate situation.

“L-…l-lots of th-th…things,” Frank whispered, starting to shake again.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whimpered. “I just…Johnny hits a lot. He yells a lot, and screams at me, and c-calls me these a-awful, awful things…”

“Ch-Charlie t-tried to ki-kill me,” Frank whispered. “We f-fought and he…st-started ch-choking me. I p-passed o-out and…he th-thought I-I’d died and was…” Frank swallowed hard and covered his face briefly with his hands. “He was o-on the ph-phone with his f-friend s-saying I was d-dead and a-asking if h-he could u-use his v-van to ta-take my b-body to the scrap…scrapyard outside o-of t-town...”

“When he…saw you were alive he…?”

“Hung up and t-told me h-he was just kidding…just playing a prank. I-I knew he was going to kill me, though… I-I kn-knew it. S-so the next d-day, I ran. I ran home and _b-b-begged_ my mom to let me st-stay with her. And I screamed…every night, thinking he was in my room and having a-all these n-nightmares… s-still have the n-nightmares.”

“J-Johnny isn’t that bad,” Gerard whispered, feeling like an idiot. Feeling like he’d overreacted to the whole thing because nothing John had ever put him through compared to what Frank had just described.

“He could be,” Frank whispered. “Th-they change every day. He could’ve shot you tonight…He c-could’ve poisoned your dinner or s-slit your throat in the bathtub… Y-you n-never know when y-you live with th-these m-m-monsters. These _f-fucking_ crazy _monsters._ ”

They sat in silence for nearly half an hour, Frank breathing heavily and fuming as he thought through the various ways his cruel lover had wronged him. Gerard stay silent, too afraid of an outburst to speak. Seeing Frank angry made him feel angry, too. He was angry at Johnny for pulling a bait and switch—for offering love and giving violence instead. He _hated_ him. He fucking hated him!

“Can I…Can I call my brother now?” Gerard asked, staring at Frank who had his hands fisted in the knees of his jeans.

“Y-yeah,” Frank said, getting up slowly. “J-just let me get my phone…”

When Frank returned, he handed him the phone at arm’s length and watched Gerard’s hand carefully as he grabbed for it.

“I-I’ll go in m-my r-room so you c-can have p-privacy,” Frank said, looking down at the floor almost sadly.

Frank, it seemed, was afraid that Gerard would leave him alone to his mental turmoil. Gerard, in all honesty, had aversions to staying with the strange man, but he felt that he owed the man something for giving him the courage to leave Johnny behind. He would stay as long as Frank needed, and maybe they’d recover together and…be friends.

As Gerard watched Frank slip away into his bedroom, Gerard realized that being friends with Frank was what he wanted more than anything…and he didn’t really understand why.

“Hello?—Who is this?” was how Mikey answered when he picked up his phone.

“M-Mikey it’s me…Um, Gerard.”

“Gerard?” Mikey said before sighing heavily. “Look, I’m kind of—”

“Mikey, please,” Gerard begged. “I _need_ to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well I needed to talk to you, too, and you weren’t there for me…” Gerard suppressed all noises of agony and bit into his lower lip. “What do you want?”

“I don’t live with…John anymore,” Gerard said quietly, holding his head in one of his hands. “I left him.”

“Okay—well, I proposed to my girlfriend on my birthday, and you weren’t there…”

“Did she…”

“No. She said no…”

“Mikey, I’m so sorry,” Gerard said, feeling tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry—I wanted to be there!”

“You wanted to be with John,” Mikey stated with ice in his voice.

“No, I didn’t,” Gerard sobbed. “I didn’t! He fucking faked appendicitis so I’d take him to the ER. I dumped him, Mikey—I left him tonight.”

“Well, I guess we’re both single then. Why did you call?—Whose phone are you using?”

“I left Johnny, so I moved in with a…a friend.”

“A friend? You don’t _have_ any friends! You gave those up when you decided to move in with John and forget the rest of us!”

“I didn’t choose to, Mikey! He was hurting me!” Gerard cried. “Mikey, he was hi-hitting me.”

“So you should’ve left…”

Gerard said nothing and stared at the floor in stunned silence. Mikey gave him no support…his only friend left wanted nothing to do with him now. Johnny really had taken everything…

“I…I’m sorry, Mikey,” Gerard said, inhaling shakily and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry—I…bye. Sorry.” Quickly, he hung up the phone and set it away from him on the couch. He wished he hadn’t called…he wished he’d just stayed with Johnny and let him kill him. Never in his life had he ever felt so empty and so alone…

Never.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Phase Four: The Honeymoon Phase_

“Frank? It’s, Mom.” There were three knocks on the door and Gerard started—jerking awake and falling off the couch onto the floor. 

“Frank?” He called out softly, hearing a key go into the door lock and panicking. Frank was supposed to call his mother to tell him that he had someone living with him, but Frank had chickened out at the last minute and decided to lock himself in the bedroom instead. Now that woman was here, having no idea that there was refugee on her son’s couch.

Just as the door to the apartment came open, Frank burst out of his bedroom and ambushed that front door.

“Mom!” He called, practically screaming. The woman cried out in surprise and backed into the hallway before Gerard could catch a glimpse of her. 

“What?” The woman called. “What the hell are you doing!?” She obviously thought she was being attacked, and Gerard took advantage of her distraction and quickly jumped off of the floor and ran to the bathroom.

“I’m—I’m helping you with the groceries!” Frank said loudly with a fake tone of excitement. “I-I was ho-hoping you’d come by t-today!”

“Why?” His mother asked in a strange, unfriendly tone. “Are you out of food already?”

“N-no!” Frank said, forcing out a laugh. “I-I just wanted t-to see you. Th-that’s all…”

“Just wanted to see me?” Gerard listened as the woman came into the apartment with rustling bags that were dropped onto the kitchen counter.

“Y-yeah! T-to tell you h-how good my sessions a-are going,” Frank said quickly. 

“Oh,” his mother said. “Your living room is a mess—are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I-I was watching th-the TV last n-night a-and a g-good show was on…s-so I st-stayed in there t-to watch it?”

“What are you hiding, Frank? You’re acting really weird…do you know how weird your acting?”

“I-I just…w-wanted t-to kn-know if I could d-do something to not…g-get p-put away.”

“Oh, Frank,” his mother sighed. “Oh…”

Gerard leaned against the bathroom door to hear their conversation, feeling terrible but knowing that her decision would affect him too. If Frank lost the apartment, Gerard would lose his hiding place.

“M-Mom, I-I’m re-really try-trying. I-I…I-I’m looking f-for work. I-I applied at the g-g-grocery store yesterday.” 

“Frank…your father and I—”

“Mom, I’m trying! Please! O-one chance! Just this o-one chance, Mom. I-I promise I-I w-won’t l-let you d-down…” The woman was quiet for a long time and Gerard swallowed hard. It didn’t sound promising.

“Frank, you need _help._ Not a job, not an apartment…”

“M-Mom, I took someone e-else in—You can’t throw me out. H-he needs me!”

“ _What?_ You did _what!?_ Where?”

“I-I don’t…Mom, listen! He-he reminds me of m-me… He d-doesn’t ha-have anyone.”

“Frank, we got this apartment for _you._ Not all of the homeless people you meet at those sessions.”

“Mom, ma-maybe if y-you m-met him…” 

Gerard pulled back from the door and almost fell over the rim of the bathroom tub before collapsing down onto it. 

“Well, if he’s already in the apartment,” Frank’s mother seethed. 

Gerard tried not to crawl into the bathtub in utter terror as he heard Frank walking towards his hiding place. Frank knocked on the door before coming in, but Gerard still stared at him in shock as if he weren’t expecting him to come through the door.

“It’s the only way,” Frank whispered. “Th-that she’ll let you…st-stay.”  
“I-I should…c-call Mikey again,” Gerard stammered.

“Just c-come out for a minute,” Frank said quietly.

Gerard licked his lips anxiously and got shakily to his feet. He didn’t speak a word as he let Frank lead him into plain sight of the woman who knew her son was such a lost cause that he needed hospitalized. If she thought that of her own child, what would she think of him?

“Th-this is…Gerard,” Frank mumbled, looking down at the floor as he addressed his mother. The woman stared straight through Gerard when he looked at her and it left him feeling numb. He saw her scanning his bruised face and the scratches on his cheeks. He contemplated offering her a smile, but remembered his chipped teeth and lowered his face instead.

“What’s your story?” She asked, not sounding at all friendly.

“My brother won’t talk to me,” Gerard mumbled. “Haven’t seen my family in over a year…”

“Call your mother and see if she’ll take you in,” Frank’s mother said. “I can’t afford to take care of you—I can’t even afford Frank.” She passed her son a dark look and Frank looked like he might start to cry. “I’m going to go,” she said. “Put these groceries away.”

Without saying much else, she left and Frank took on the task of organizing the groceries without speaking a word. Gerard stared at him quietly, wanting to say something that might make him look a little less miserable, but coming up with nothing. 

“I’ll call Mikey again,” Gerard whispered when Frank had put the last of the groceries away. Frank just nodded and sat down at the tiny table in the kitchen. Gerard couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad…sad that Gerard now had no place to stay, or angry because he’d lost his tool for self-improvement. 

Gerard didn’t really want to call Mikey…and considered pretending to and then just going to live on the streets. He was sure he would be able to find some warm places to sleep at night, and food didn’t really matter since he couldn’t chew with all the pain from his broken teeth. 

It wasn’t like he really had any choice besides the streets if he couldn’t stay with Frank. Mikey wasn’t going to take him in. Mikey didn’t even want to speak to him…their parents would be no different.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Mikey?” Gerard said quietly, hoping his brother had forgiven him—even if only a little bit—for everything that had happened.

“Gerard, I’ve already told you—”

“Please, Mikey,” Gerard whimpered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you—I wanted to be. I wanted to be, Mikey.”

“No, you—”

“Mikey, really!”

“You just want a place to stay! You’re just looking out for yourself, like always! You don’t _care_ about me! You don’t _care_ about _anyone!_ ”

“That’s not true!” Gerard argued, pacing Frank’s living room anxiously. He was facing homelessness, and it wasn’t completely inaccurate that he was seeking some place to stay, but it wasn’t all about him. He worried about Mikey, too. “Mikey, I’ve missed you so much—”

“Whatever, Gerard. Just leave me alone. I don’t have any room here for you.” Mikey hung up the phone and Gerard lowered it from his ear and sighed hopelessly. 

He’d never known Mikey to get this angry at anyone…it felt so awful. He felt alone and alienated. His only hope for salvation seemed to be going back to Johnny. It was the only home he had, and the only friend he had…

Staring at the phone, Gerard decided that he would try his parents’ number, and if they didn’t answer or didn’t want to hear anything from him, he’d call John and apologize. He really didn’t want to have to do that—he was terrified of Johnny—but he didn’t want to live on the streets. Frank was going to end up in an asylum and Gerard felt like he was probably going to end up being an inmate with him before long if really left John. Frank couldn’t recover, and Gerard knew he probably wouldn’t be able to either.

“Hello?” Gerard stared at the phone for a moment, contemplating hanging up as soon as he heard his mother’s voice. “ _Hello?_ ”

“H-hey,” Gerard mumbled.

“Hello?” His mother said again. “Who is this?”

Gerard managed a few fractured words, imagining that her reaction to his call couldn’t be any different than Mikey’s. 

“I think you have the wrong number,” she said.

“No, I…” Gerard didn’t have the words to speak to her. 

“Who is this?” She asked again. 

“It’s…It’s Gerard, Mom,” Gerard whispered, almost hoping she wouldn’t catch his words and hang up. He hadn’t wanted to crawl home. He’d wanted to hide with Frank—a person who understood him.

“Gerard?” His mother said in confusion. “I can barely understand you. Speak up.”

“I…Can I come visit?” Gerard whispered again.

“Uh…I—sure, Gerard. Why are you whispering?”

“I’ll explain later,” Gerard whispered. “Can I come see you n-now?”

“Well…sure, honey. What’s wrong?” Her voice suddenly became sad. Gerard couldn’t understand her sympathy.

“Just…I’ll come see you.” Gerard hung up quickly, afraid to answer any more questions. 

“Can I come with you?” Frank asked suddenly, startling Gerard horribly.

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, wondering why Frank wanted to follow him and scaring himself with his own aversions to the idea. If he said no, would it offend Frank? Would it somehow inhibit his ability to recover? How could Frank ask him something like that?

“…visit with you, in case something happens?”

“S-sure,” Gerard mumbled.

“Where do they live?” Frank whispered. Gerard could never figure out why they spoke as if someone might overhear them, but the soft voices worked to keep them both calm.

Gerard mumbled the approximate address of his parents’ house and Frank nodded slowly.

“I’ll call a cab whenever you’re ready to go,” Frank said quietly, walking back towards his kitchen. Gerard watched him move, without a limp or twinge of pain…he was envious. Even if Frank was a wreck, he had no need to be. He was free…why wasn’t he letting himself be free?

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stared at the front door of his parents’ home, shaking and not sure why visiting them terrified him so greatly. He loved his parents, and they loved him. Sure, his dad had had a little trouble accepting him when he came out, but it was never something they fought over. And yet he was still terrified.

“D-do you…w-want m-me to kn-kn-knock?” Frank asked quietly, looking to Gerard. Gerard glanced at him and then shook his head. How much of a coward would he be if he had to have someone else knock on his own parents’ door?

Gerard gathered up the nerve and knocked on the door just loudly enough to be heard if someone inside were listening. 

Apparently they were, because his mother came to the door within a few seconds and Gerard had to stop himself from turning away and walking off down the street. This was humiliating. He didn’t want to do this—he was _ashamed._ He was a _grown man_ going to his mother because someone was bullying him. He felt like a child—like a kid beat up in gym class again. His mom hadn’t really been there for him then, and he couldn’t see how she could possibly be any more of a help to him now.

“Gerard?” His mother said, looking out the screen door at her son and then glancing at Frank. “Well, come in—come in, what’s the matter with you?” She opened the screen door and stepped aside so Gerard and Frank could both fit through the doorway. “Who’s your friend?” His mother continued to press as Gerard kept his humiliated silence. 

“F-Frank,” Frank said, swallowing hard and looking to Gerard for support. It was strange…Gerard felt so strange. 

He was just as damaged and worthless as Frank was. Why was this other man looking to him?

“Gerard, what’s wrong?” His mother asked urgently, closing the door and locking it behind her. She ushered them into the living room where her husband was sat in front of the TV. He turned it off immediately when he saw his son. 

“What happened to your face?” He asked. “Who’s this guy?—What’s going on?”

“Stop,” Gerard’s mother hissed, placing both Frank and Gerard on the couch and sitting in a large chair across from them. “How…how have you been, Gerard? It’s…it’s been awhile…”

“I-I heard about…Mikey,” Gerard said, not wanting to explain why he was there. It hurt so much to admit what happened. It was embarrassing. He let someone hurt him—rather than being made a victim by someone stronger, he submitted to it and let it go on like he had no option when he’d really had countless chances to escape before it got so far.

“Yeah…she was a nice girl.”

“She was a bitch,” Gerard’s father grumbled, looking at the TV like he wanted to turn it back on. Gerard glared at the dark screen, saw his distorted reflection and looked quickly away at the unpolished floor. 

“Gerard, I don’t feel like you’re here because of Mikey,” Gerard’s mother said slowly. Gerard lowered his head and shrugged his shoulders. He really wished Frank weren’t here…scrutinizing everything with his silent, weepy, judgmental eyes. “What happened to you and Johhny? You two were attached at the hip the last time I saw you.”

“Last year,” his father added in a grumble.

“J-Johhny,” Gerard said briefly, gesturing to his face and staring at the floor intently, hoping a void would open up between the cracks in the floorboards so he could escape.

“What?” His mother exclaimed. “Did you two have a fight? What happened?”

“It…It wasn’t a fight,” Gerard muttered, shrugging his shoulders. “I…Johnny just—I need a place to live,” Gerard finally confessed, dropping his head into his hands and trying not to cry. It was humiliating. 

He’d been so proud when he’d started his own life outside his parents’ home. He’d had a job, a lover—a _life._ And it had all been taken away, and he felt like a child—a _stupid_ child who couldn’t fight his own battles or solve his own problems. Everything he’d ever worked for was gone. All of it…everything. 

“I don’t understand,” his mother said quietly. “I don’t—you can stay here, Gerard. I told you, if you _ever_ needed a place to stay, we’re you’re family—we’re here for you. But, I don’t understand. What did he do to you? Why did he hurt you?”

She was going to make him confess. She was going to make him admit everything he’d done wrong…

“Johnny was…” Gerard took in a shaking breath and tried to think of words that sounded right. “I was wrong about John.”

“Was he…did he _beat_ you?” Gerard’s mother asked, looking from Gerard in shock to Frank in search of more answers. Frank shrunk under her gaze and Gerard was surprised the other man didn’t get up and run away.

“Yeah,” Gerard whimpered. He hated being reduced to this…

“So where’d you meet _this_ guy?” His dad asked. Gerard didn’t know if his dad was interrogating him about hooking up with someone else if his past lover was beating him—another small exclamation against his son’s questionable “life choice”—or trying to change an uncomfortable subject. 

“His n-name’s Frank—we met at…fuckin’ counseling,” Gerard said, the tears overwhelming him despite his best efforts to choke them back. It was so mortifying. Did he have _no_ shred of masculinity left? First subjecting himself to abuse, then staying with it until all of his teeth were chipped, then going to counseling—then homelessness. 

“Gerard, it’s okay,” his mother said, not knowing how much worse her loving, maternal voice was making him feel. “It’s _okay._ ”

“Yeah, Gerard,” his father said, obviously at a loss for what to do. “Just…just bring your stuff over and set up in your old room. Your bed’s still there—we haven’t moved anything.”

“Thanks,” Gerard whispered, feeling sicker by the second and wishing Frank would just _go away._ Why did he have to intrude? Why did he think he was needed?

Or, better yet, what the hell did Frank want from him _here?_

“And, uh…why are you here?” his father asked, looking to Frank coldly. The look alone was enough to set Frank off. The man turned into a wreck immediately, his eyes going wide and his brow furrowing with fear. 

It really was no wonder his mother wanted him committed.

“U-um—I-I…I j-just—I just th-thought…I th-thought G-Gerard m-might—m-maybe? I-I don’t know! I-I’m s-sorry!” The whole time he choked through the sentence he was squirming next to Gerard on the couch until he finally stumbled onto his feet. 

“Well, you don’t need to go!” Gerard’s mother exclaimed in worry. Gerard shot her a look, but she missed it entirely. He felt bad that Frank reacted so dramatically to a simple question and a simple glance, but he _really_ just wanted some privacy… “Come on, now—sit down. I’ll get you boys a cup of coffee—drink some coffee and calm yourself down.” Frank was practically forced to sit back down on the couch and stammer after the woman who left the room, mumbling her contradictory statements.

“What happened to you?” Gerard’s father asked Frank, obviously struggling to make conversation.

“I-I…”

“Dad, you can’t ask things like that,” Gerard mumbled. His father pulled a surprised face, like he had no idea what social etiquette was, and Gerard passed Frank a consoling look to keep him calm. “Frank…Frank helped me leave John.” His father looked at him skeptically and then glanced at Frank—the shaking, stammering mess.

“N-no, it’s o-okay,” Frank stammered. “M-my boyfriend t-tried t-to kill me, a-and wh-when I m-met G-Gerard I w-was worried th-that…th-the same th-thing might happen t-to him and he…he’s so nice.”

“Tried to kill you?” Gerard’s father asked, pulling a face of surprise. Gerard couldn’t lie that it felt better to have the attention focused on Frank instead of him…especially since Frank had let his relationship get to a point far worse than Gerard had.

“Y-yeah…he ch-choked me out and…when I c-came t-to he was o-on the phone a-asking for a p-place to hide the b-body…”

“That’s just horrible,” Gerard’s mother said, coming back onto the scene with two mugs of steaming coffee.

“Y-yeah,” Frank mumbled, accepting the cup and watching Gerard take his coffee and offering him a weak smile as if to say he liked it here. 

They sat and talked for a while longer, changing the subject from Frank and Charlie back to Gerard and John—then diverting it to other things like Mikey and what their parents had been doing. It slipped back into a masquerade of a normal conversation, as if they were just hanging out like always and not coming back together after a year apart.

Inevitably, though, they had to face the facts. They asked Gerard if he had belongings that needed picked up, and he told them he had a backpack at Frank’s but nothing more. They asked Frank if he knew what he would be doing and he reminded them that he was being institutionalized and looked close to tears.

“Well, I can give you a ride back to your apartment,” Gerard’s father said when their conversations ran dry and the sky had turned dark. “And, Gerard, you can pick up your bag and come back home.”

“Sounds…great,” Gerard mumbled.

“My poor kid,” Gerard’s mother said softly, stroking Gerard’s chin and referring to his horribly chipped teeth.

The ride to Frank’s apartment was silent except for Frank’s mumbled directions, and Gerard’s dad gave up conversation when neither of the men in the backseat answered his questions.

When the pulled up to the apartment building, Gerard’s father offered to go up with them, but Frank refused—he didn’t want men in his apartment.

Apparently Gerard didn’t count as a man…

“Sorry,” Frank kept mumbling as they walked up the steps to the apartment. “I’m sorry…I just…no guys have been in my a-apartment except f-for you…”

“I understand,” Gerard mumbled. 

Gerard kept his eyes on the steps and not on Frank’s embroidered back pockets. Even when they entered the hallway, Gerard stared at the floor and the backs of Frank’s white Converse… until Frank abruptly quit walking and Gerard slammed into him, making them other man squeak and shudder.

“What?” Gerard asked, backing away a step. Frank didn’t answer, just stared at something ahead of them. Gerard looked past Frank’s shoulder and tried to identify the threat.

The door to Frank’s apartment was open a small, ominous crack and when Gerard listened closely, he could hear something rustling over the sound of Frank’s labored breaths.

“Wh-who’s…”

“I don’t know,” Frank said, immediately turning around and preparing to run back towards the staircase. Gerard grabbed onto him, unsure as to why, and held him back.

“Wait—maybe it’s your mom,” Gerard mumbled, not wanting to be left standing alone in the hallway…not wanting to explain to his father that the man who saved him from John had run away in terror.

“Let me go,” Frank cried in a terrified whisper. 

“Frank, just wait—”

“Let go! Let go—stop it! St-stop!” Gerard let go when Frank started to cry. Immediately, Frank took off down the apartment steps and left Gerard behind, staring at the cracked open door.

He felt fear grip him, but he struggled to suppress it. Johnny had stolen his masculinity, and he wanted at least some of it back. 

Wouldn’t it be brave to go inside and face Frank’s fear for him—it was probably just his mother coming to apologize for being a frigid bitch… Wouldn’t it make him look good in front of Frank if he were able to chase out the intruder?

Swallowing hard, Gerard crept towards the open door and only allowed himself thirty seconds to listen outside the door before creeping inside.

He pushed the door open silently and peered into the dim apartment between strands of his hair. There was a light on in the bedroom, but not in the kitchen or living room. Gerard felt his pulse jolting through his body like electricity and tried to collect his thoughts.

This was crazy—this was easy. What if it wasn’t Frank’s mother?—what if it was the landlord? It seemed too random for a burglar to just break in to a random apartment at nine at night…

What if it was Charlie?

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sat at the bottom of the stairs, too afraid to go outside without Gerard and too scared to go back upstairs. He tried to slow his breathing and stop the shaking, but he couldn’t and the harder he tried the more forceful his tears became. 

He hated this—he hated being scared of everything. Why couldn’t he just ball up his fists and grit his teeth and storm into his apartment and drive the intruders out? Why couldn’t he be even _half_ the man he used to be?

“Oh, God,” he whimpered, fisting his hands into his hair and moaning in anguish. He was so scared for Gerard—so what was he doing still sitting at the foot of the stairs? “Gerard?” He called, loudly…for once he raised his voice. But he doubted Gerard could hear him from two flights down. “Oh, God, Gerard…”

Frank got to his feet and started slowly up the steps, stopping every two or three when the anxiety overcame him. He knew he had to be brave—if Gerard were to try to fight a burglar or _Charlie_ alone, he would fail and he would be hurt worse. He never wanted any harm to come to Gerard, so he couldn’t leave him to fight on his own—especially not in a battle that wasn’t his.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Who’s there?” Gerard called, slipping past the shadow of the couch in the living room and approaching the doorway to Frank’s bedroom. Someone was moving in the room, but Gerard couldn’t see who, or how tall, or what gender…

“Hello?” Gerard heard something drop and backed quickly away from the door. The voice was male, and this was a mistake. Why did he think he could take on an intruder in an apartment that wasn’t even his own? Why did he think he could be strong for anyone?

The door to the bedroom was pulled open further, and Gerard just had time to duck behind the couch before the man in the bedroom stepped into view.

Immediately, his mind flashed back to Johnny. He’d hid from his lover like this before. It hadn’t worked…

“G-Gerard?” Gerard started when he heard his name and turned his eyes to the open apartment door. Frank stood there cowering and Gerard felt like they were one and the same. The terror in Frank’s eyes when he saw the man in the bedroom doorway was familiar…

Gerard shifted behind the couch to peer over the back just enough to catch another look of the near-silhouette of the man.

He was shorter—probably not much taller than Gerard himself—but was better fed and could probably knock Gerard over with a weak punch…

“Frank? What are you doing?” The man asked, his voice was rough with age. Gerard looked back to Frank whose body lost its tension almost immediately.

“Dad, you can’t just come into my apartment! You _know_ I can’t handle that! You _know_ that!”

Gerard let out a sigh but didn’t stand up. He felt embarrassed and even more emasculated than before. He’d come in to face an intruder, but he couldn’t even stand up to Frank’s own father…

“I _pay_ for this apartment—I can come in whenever I want. You _know_ that.”

“What do you want?” Frank asked, looking from his father to Gerard and sighing in displeasure and embarrassment. “You want to throw me in the fuckin’ asylum, too!? You think I’m fucking crazy, too!?”

“Frank, stop being overdramatic—where’s that kid that was sneaking around in here?”

Frank groaned in protest but hit the switch to turn on the light in the living room. Gerard felt it necessary to stand up even though he would’ve preferred to crawl out of the apartment on all fours like the dog he was…

“Don’t c-come in my a-apartment wh-when I’m not home,” Frank stammered, losing his strength when Gerard got to his feet.

“Stop with that stutter already. You weren’t doing that a second ago.” His father looked disappointed, but not nearly as tired and bitter as Frank’s mother.

“L-leave me alone,” Frank mumbled, stepping into his apartment and closing the door behind him.

“You spend too much time alone—why don’t you come visit anymore? Your grandpa’s not doing so well…”

Gerard spotted his backpack leaning against the side of Frank’s couch and reached for it slowly, hoping to become invisible and less intrusive. He should’ve let Frank figure out his own messes because this was humiliating. He’d come in to be strong and ended up cowering behind a couch.

He felt fucking worthless.

“Who’s this guy? New boyfriend?”

“I d-don’t date, Dad,” Frank said, looking away from the both and staring at the wall. “He’s just a friend. He needed a place to stay for a while, but M-Mom’s sending me t-to the psych ward so he has t-to go s-somewhere else…”

“She’s not sending you to a _psych ward._ Don’t exaggerate. It’s a _rehab_ facility. You’ll get counseling.”

“I already h-have counseling!” Frank shouted, showing a rage that Gerard wasn’t used to. “I-I finally start t-to get b-better and sh-she won’t let me tr-try! I-I was looking f-for work! I don’t want to go to some hellhole to be poked at and analyzed! I have _friends_ at the theater!”

“You don’t have to yell, Frank. I’m not fighting you.”

“Yes you are!” Frank cried, looking betrayed and humiliated. “Stand _up_ for me! I’m not a-an invalid! I-I want a n-normal l-life, and I’m not gonna g-get that in f-fucking rehab!”

“What do you want, Frank? This guy to live with you? Your mom and I talk.”

“I don’t s-see h-how!” Frank snapped. “All you ever did was fight before!”

“Stop. I just came to say that I talked to your mom, she said to come ‘reason’ with you. But you can’t be reasoned with, so I guess I’m paying for your little paradise until you get a job.”

“I-I’m _working_ on it…”

“I’m gonna go,” Gerard said, trying not to look at either of them as he stepped closer to the door. Frank stared at him and then moved out of his way, letting him leave without protest.

“Frank…Listen to me, now,” Frank’s father said once Gerard had gone. “Don’t get angry, don’t feel attacked, okay?”

“F-fine,” Frank whispered, looking at the floor. 

“Your mom is just worried, alright? You’ve been hiding out in your apartment for two years. Her patience wore thin and she reacted badly—I talked to her, and we agreed that I’d take over for a while so she could rest. We’re not sending you to a rehab center you don’t want to go to. We’ll let you stay here and get your life back together. Alright?”

Frank could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d been given a second chance…he didn’t know what to do with it. 

Yeah, he could say he was going to run out tomorrow and ask around for work… He could say that, but what was the truth? He’d probably sit in his apartment staring at the door, wanting to leave but not being able to get up the courage. 

“Just try to understand that we’re not fighting you. Frank, we’ve been worried about you since you’d moved in with that creep—”

“Don’t bring him up,” Frank said quickly. “Please, just go. I’ll get work tomorrow and…and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Kid, we know it’s not that easy… I know you’re scared that he’s out there, behind every corner. You see him everywhere on the streets when you go out—I understand.”

“You _don’t_ understand,” Frank mumbled.

“Frank, that guy doesn’t think about you anymore. If he saw you, he’d probably not even recognize you. Your hair’s different…you dress different. You’re a different person.”

“Dad, I _know_ that a-as a rational person, okay? B-But I don’t f-feel any better, okay? I feel fear, not because it’s justified, but because it’s _there._ Just like p-people afraid of the dark. We know there’s n-nothing in the dark part of our rooms at night, b-but we’re still afraid that something is…”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard sat down on the bed of his old room and felt foolish. He was glad he had a place to stay and a place to hide until Johnny forgot all about him, but it was still awful having to run _home._ He’d been so proud when he’d been able to leave his parents’ house and live with his boyfriend all by himself…

Now he was just embarrassed. He’d tried to start his life and he failed…failed dismally. 

What was he supposed to do now? 

Gerard laid down and covered his eyes with his hands. The light was on and that made it hard to sleep, but he didn’t feel comfortable turning the lights off. 

He felt like such a failure…and not just because he’d failed to move out and live a successful adult life.

He couldn’t believe that he had let Frank down… All he had to do was go in and see who was standing in Frank’s apartment. Instead, he fell down on the floor and hid like a coward. And worse than that…he was pretty sure that he’d fallen in love with Frank—even if it was only just a little bit.

He wasn’t ready for full-blown, knocked off his feet, soul-sucking love, but there was a spark. It was a spark like what he’d had when he’d first met Johnny. And he and Frank certainly had more in common than he and Johnny had had.

“Oh, God,” Gerard moaned, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow. He felt like a kid again, being at home and in his childhood bed…

If he were a kid, he’d be waiting to go to school tomorrow to see Frank in study hall and be struggling to work up the courage to sit next to him at lunch…

Gerard wished he were a kid again…he wished he and Frank we’re just high school friends so he could call him on the phone and laugh with him about stupid comics and bad jokes.

He liked the thought of that…

As he fell into a sleepy daze, he imagined that he would call Frank the next day and strike up a casual conversation, and the two of them would talk like nothing had ever happened to them…ever.


	5. Epilogue

“Okay, everyone—let’s try some trust building exercises before we call it quits for today,” Dr. Beacon said, smiling at her group. Everyone looked around reluctantly, especially when she insisted that they grab a partner.

“D-do you…want to be p-partners?” Frank asked, looking at Gerard nervously.

“Okay,” Gerard answered, slowly getting up from his metal chair and eyeing Frank carefully. They’d hung out a couple of times since Gerard had moved back in with his family and Frank had managed to secure an actual job. 

Frank’s stutter was getting better, but it was still obvious. Customers he rang up at the grocery store often avoiding his lane just to escape the awkwardness of having to talk to him and Gerard could tell that it hurt Frank’s feelings more than he let on. During the majority of his shift, Frank was often searching the queues for Charlie, afraid he might show up and strike at him one last time.

“Here’s what I was you all to do,” Dr. Beacon said as everyone found a partner—mostly reluctantly. “You’re all familiar with the trust fall activity. So I want you all to line up in two lines—one person in front and your partner standing a couple feet behind you.”

Frank stared at Gerard behind him and started chewing his lip anxiously.

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard said quietly. “You know I won’t drop you.”

“I…I know,” Frank said quietly, looking down and waiting for Dr. Beacon to give her cue. When she finally said to fall, everyone hesitated, but eventually they obeyed, crossing their arms over their chest and falling backwards.

Frank flinched as soon as Gerard caught him, afraid of the close contact more than he was afraid of landing hard on the floor. As soon as Frank caught his balance, Gerard released him and anxiously brushed non-existent dust off of his sweater.

“Okay, switch places,” Dr. Beacon called cheerfully. Most everyone was laughing, realizing the silliness of the instinct to fear falling, even with someone to catch them. 

Gerard eyed Frank cautiously…he was taller than Frank. What if he fell backwards and crushed him? 

He began to think that maybe he should find a different partner…but everyone was already in place again.

“Y-you’ll be fine,” Frank said softly. Gerard wasn’t afraid that Frank would drop him, he was afraid his massive weight would crush his friend to death.

“But I don’t—”

“Okay, everyone, let go,” Dr. Beacon said in her cheerful voice. Gerard didn’t want to. He really, really didn’t want to.

“Come on, Gerard,” Frank said quietly, sounding embarrassed. Gerard closed his eyes tightly and let himself fall, trying to keep his falling under control so if Frank couldn’t hold him, he wouldn’t bring Frank down with him.

But Frank was fine. He caught him, staggered back a step, and then released him when he started to pull himself up.

“See? I can…catch you.”

“I was just afraid I’d crush you,” Gerard mumbled.

“Oh…” Frank whispered, looking sheepishly at the floor. “I-I understand…”

“No, really,” Gerard said. “I’m bigger than you—I was afraid I’d knock you over. I don’t want to hurt you…”

“N-not that much b-bigger,” Frank mumbled. 

They continued with a few more exercises and then the session came to an end.

“D-do you want to g-get coffee with m-me?” Frank asked, looking towards the seat in the ring of chairs where his friend Monica used to sit before she stopped coming. With her gone, Frank had no one else to get coffee with. 

“Okay, yeah—definitely,” Gerard answered, trying not to show his excitement. He loved hanging out with Frank. They never really said much, but whenever they did talk the conversations were great. They talked about music and movies and they had all the same interests. Frank even played guitar a little…he was so cool.

“I really like…coffee,” Frank mumbled, staring at his cup. He spoke slower when he tried not to stutter. 

“I…Yeah, I like coffee too. It’s one of my favorite things.”

Frank hummed and stared at the steam coming from the Styrofoam cup. 

“Meeting with you is…nice…I guess.”

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled, looking out the window of the coffee shop and watching the people walk by. 

“I like…spending time with you, Gerard,” Frank said quietly. Gerard felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. This was too soon wasn’t it? Frank couldn’t possibly mean anything more than spending time with him as friends.

“You’re pretty cool, Frank,” Gerard mumbled, taking a slow sip of coffee. “I like you, Frank,” Gerard said when he finally set his cup down.

“Can we…go to see a movie tomorrow?” Frank asked. “I…I know a friend who can let us i-in f-for free…”

“S-sure!” Gerard said, scaring Frank with his eagerness. “I-I mean…I’d like that.”

“R-really?” Frank asked, his eyes going wide with surprise. “A-awesome…” Gerard felt himself beginning to blush and raised his coffee cup again.

“I can…pick you up beforehand,” Gerard mumbled once his cup was empty. “We could g-go to dinner!” Frank smiled and Gerard tried to hide inside of his cup again, even though there was nothing left.

“I…know a place,” Frank mumbled. Gerard nodded…then wondered how he was going to get his father to lend him the car.

( ) ( ) ( )

“That…movie was horrible,” Frank said, sitting on Gerard’s bed in his room in the basement at his parents’ house.

“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled. “I…I just like horror films.”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head slowly. “Horror is good…but that movie was bad…”

“Sorry,” Gerard said again. He knew he should have picked the lighthearted comedy, but he was afraid that if Frank saw romance on the screen he’d feel pressured. Gerard didn’t want him to feel pressured.

“I…I didn’t like the plot,” Frank mumbled. “And the jump scares were cheap.”

“Sorry,” Gerard repeated, looking down at the floor and feeling like he was about to be scolded. 

Johnny used to do this every time they went out if Gerard picked the activity. The restaurant would suck, the movie would suck, the walk would suck…

“You don’t have to be s-sorry,” Frank said, looking up and trying to catch Gerard’s gaze. “I…just want to make conversation. What did you th-think of the movie?”

The last thing Frank wanted was to come off like Charlie. If they went out, Charlie made it obvious that he’d had a horrible time. He’d complain about everything they did and then he would turn to fists to make his point known.

“It was…boring,” Gerard mumbled. “I liked getting dinner with you.”

“The restaurant is one of my favorites…”

“I really liked it,” Gerard said. He wanted to sit down beside Frank but he was afraid that he might frighten him.

Frank gave him a timid smile and then chewed his lower lip. 

“Would you want to go out a-again some-sometime?” Frank asked cautiously. He looked excited and horrified all at once, and Gerard just wanted to wrap him up in a hug. It was too soon to be in another relationship, but it was so tempting to fall into the arms of someone just as broken and shattered as he was. 

“I’d really, really like that,” Gerard said, trying not to blush but knowing he failed when Frank giggled. It was shrill, girlish laugh that made Gerard flush. Frank was absolutely adorable—harmless and adorable. 

He was everything Gerard needed in a friend…in a friend he hoped he could be more with.

“Gerard, I…” Frank suddenly looked sad and Gerard began to fumble with his hands, wishing he could think of some other activity to do so they wouldn’t be sitting alone in his bedroom. Maybe they could draw together—but then again, they weren’t eight years old. Drawing together didn’t help you keep friends anymore… “I r-really like you, b-but—”

“It’s too soon,” Gerard interjected, hoping that Frank wasn’t going to dismiss him completely. He couldn’t handle being told that he wasn’t good enough for Frank when he was just starting to feel like he might be good for something.

“Y-yeah,” Frank whispered. “I-it’s not like w-we c-couldn’t have something m-maybe in the future, but…”

“I…I just l-left Johnny,” Gerard said, putting the blame on himself so Frank wouldn’t have to feel guilty. “If we could take things slow…”

“W-we could…make it work, I think,” Frank said, scanning Gerard’s floor slowly.

“Do you…want to draw with me? I…I don’t really have any movies or anything.” Feeling too tense to just let them sit and talk with nothing else to do, Gerard grabbed for a sketch pad on his desk. 

“Draw?” Frank asked, looking at the pad nervously. “I…I can’t.”

“It’s…fun. I can give you p-pointers if you re-really have trouble, but…I think it’d be cool to draw with you…” Gerard felt like a jerk. Who wanted his critiques? What a way to start a relationship—pointing out his partner’s flaws.

“O-okay,” Frank said, sounding eager. “Like an art class? I-I always wanted t-to take one o-outside of high school, but they’re e-expensive.”

“Um…yeah,” Gerard said, surprised by Frank’s enthusiasm. Frank wanted his comments? That was so foreign to him…

“C-can you h-help me d-draw dogs? I l-love dogs—I-I really want t-to get one.” 

“S-sure,” Gerard said, sitting down on his floor after grabbing a few pencils for himself and Frank. As soon as he hit the floor, Frank dropped down across from him and reached for a piece of paper. “Wh-what kind of d-dog?”

“I don’t know—any.” Frank smiled at him and Gerard felt helpless under his gaze. He didn’t know what Frank saw on their blank pieces of paper, but he saw dogs and houses and a family. He saw an opportunity he hadn’t had with Johnny, and a life Frank hadn’t had with Charlie. 

When he started showing Frank how to sketch using lines and spheres for guidance, he started to feel happiness and realize that there was more to life for him than group counseling and meetings with people who had been broken and cast aside.


End file.
